The Tale of Aramis and Christelle
by Raven in Red
Summary: Athos had a wife at one point, D'Artagnan has Anne, and Porthos has all his favorite women, but what about Aramis? Why doesn't he have someone to love? Meet Christelle, who follows the Four Musketeers through the events of The Man in the Iron Mask.
1. Reunion

_**The Tale of Aramis and Christelle**_

By: Raven in Red

Athos had a wife at one point, D'Artagnan has Anne, and Porthos has all his favorite women, but what about Aramis? Why doesn't he have someone to love? Meet Christelle, who follows the Four Musketeers through the events of The Man in the Iron Mask.

**Chapter One**

Christelle Dupont and the great Musketeer Aramis were destined to fall in love.

Their story began with Christelle wanting to be a Musketeer all throughout her childhood, despite the rule that denied the position to women. However, when she was 22, she disguised herself as a young man and joined the Musketeers under the alias of Gabriel Bertrand. For twelve years, no one knew her true identity. She performed her duties like any other Musketeer. One day, she met Aramis when they were both on duty together. She fell in love with him, but she couldn't tell him due to the fact that he still believed her to be a man. Eventually, she couldn't bear it anymore and revealed everything to him and his closest friends: Athos, Porthos, and D'Artagnan. Aramis and Christelle got to know each other well, with Aramis and his friends agreeing to keep her secret safe. Soon, he admitted his love for her. Unfortunately, several other Musketeers somehow found out about Christelle's true identity, and she was dishonorably retired from her position. Aramis deeply regretted losing her and blamed himself for their discovery of her. He thought about her often and tried, but failed, many times to find her.

Christelle lived in loneliness for two years after her dismissal from the Musketeers. She missed Aramis deeply, but she had no means of contacting him. He probably thought her a fool for making such a stupid attempt as to join the Musketeers as a disguised woman.

One afternoon, out of the blue, Christelle got a tip from a friend about where Aramis could be found. He was a priest at a Parisian cathedral, so she decided to go visit him. When she reached the cathedral and was crossing the courtyard, she saw a familiar face.

"D'Artagnan!" she exclaimed as she approached her old friend.

"Hello, Christelle!" the great Musketeer greeted her with a warm hug. While Athos, Porthos, and Aramis had all retired, he still maintained his post. "It's been so long!"

"Yes, my friend, it has!" Christelle replied, barely able to contain her excitement. Her long brown hair was a tangled mess from her multiple-mile horseback ride to the cathedral.

"I've actually just been to see Aramis," said D'Artagnan.

"He's really here?" Christelle was ready to burst. She hadn't seen Aramis in so long, but her love for him was as strong as ever.

"Yes, of course," D'Artagnan replied. "You really should go relieve him of his loneliness. He hasn't stopped talking about you since the day you two parted two years ago. He would be overjoyed to see you."

"Thank you so much!" Christelle hugged him again and then took off running. Once she made it through the big double doors, she entered the first room she saw. What she found was Aramis, utterly startled at her sudden appearance.

"Christelle," he choked out in a whisper. "My dear, is that you?" He rubbed his eyes, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Christelle, instead of replying with words, took a running leap into his arms. He caught her and held her tight, crying along the way. His tears dripped onto her shoulder as if from a rainstorm. She began to cry, too.

"Yes, Aramis, it is me," she replied, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. She wiped away his tears with a gentle hand. "I've missed you so much."

"I thought I would never see you again, Christelle," Aramis smiled. "Unfortunately, you have caught me at the worst of times. I'm supposed to be off to see the king." When he managed to let go of her, he crossed the room to a wardrobe and retrieved a set of black robes. He removed his jacket and put them on over his current clothes. "How have you been, my dear?" he asked once he had donned a simple wooden cross necklace. He approached Christelle and held her hands gently.

"Well, I've missed you almost more than I could bear," she answered with a sad smile. "And now you have to run off to see the king. I thought you didn't serve him anymore."

"Although I am no longer a Musketeer," Aramis replied, "he still calls on me for advice or minor services from time to time." He then leaned over and kissed her cheek. "I will not be long, my dear, and when I am back, we can catch up and fill in that lonely two-year gap that kept us apart." He leaned in for a quick kiss before reluctantly exiting the room. Christelle took the opportunity to kneel down beneath the wooden crucifix mounted on one wall. She clasped her hands together in prayer.

"Thank you, Lord, for reuniting me with my true love," she said with a single tear dripping from her eye. She made the sign of the cross and stood up on shaky legs. She was so overwhelmed with emotion that she could barely think straight. Nothing mattered now that she was with Aramis again.

Aramis returned within only a few hours, although it felt like an eternity to Christelle. He entered the same room he had left her in and saw her delicate angel form sound asleep in a chair, probably to pass the time. With a slight laugh, he leaned down and woke her with a gentle kiss.

"Did you get lonely waiting for me, my dear?" he asked with one of his handsome smiles upon his face. Christelle sat up and hugged him gently.

"Yes, I did," she replied in a tired voice as he hugged her in return. The excitement of her day had sucked all the energy out of her. "What time is it?"

"Late afternoon," Aramis replied. "Why don't we find a more suitable place to talk and catch up?" Without asking her permission first, he lifted her right up off the chair and into his strong arms. She was so tired that she didn't object, even though she probably wouldn't have anyway. Aramis carried her out of the room, down a hallway, and up several flights of stairs, finally setting her down on a balcony in a tower high above the cathedral. "So," he began, "tell me how you have been over the last two years." He sat down on a bench and pulled her down into his lap, giving her his full attention.

"Well," Christelle said, "I lived with my family again, resuming my normal duties around the house. I assisted my friend Christine in taking care of her sick father. I filled many journals with silly love poems, mostly about my dear Aramis. That's pretty much it." Then she paused. "And how have you been?"

"Well, I've been a priest ever since I retired from the Musketeers," he replied. "But every day since we parted, I did miss you. I thought about you all the time. I prayed every day for a reunion with you and the Lord's forgiveness to me for letting you go." She tucked her head into the crook of his neck.

"I hope we never have to be apart again, Aramis," said Christelle. She looked out at the beautiful afternoon sky and sighed with relief. Everything was going to be okay now.


	2. Love and Loyalty

_**The Tale of Aramis and Christelle**_

By: Raven in Red

Athos had a wife at one point, D'Artagnan has Anne, and Porthos has all his favorite women, but what about Aramis? Why doesn't he have someone to love? Meet Christelle, who follows the Four Musketeers through the events of The Man in the Iron Mask.

**Chapter Two**

Christelle went to visit Aramis again the next day. When she reached the cathedral, she found him kneeling below the wall-mounted crucifix, deep in prayer. She waited calmly by the door until he made the sign of the cross and stood up. "Ah, hello, my dear," he greeted Christelle with a warm hug and a kiss on either cheek. "How are you today?" he asked kindly.

"Quite well, actually," Christelle replied with a smile. "Every hour seems to only make my day better now that I am back with you." She then sat down on a nearby bench. "I forgot to ask yesterday – how did your meeting with the king go?"

Aramis took a seat next to her and sighed. "The king has entrusted me with a very important mission, and he has ordered that I keep it private." Before either of them could say another word, the door burst open and in came Porthos, dressed in flamboyant clothes and flanked by three cleavage-bearing women.

"Porthos, not only was I in the middle of something, but didn't we already go through this yesterday?" Aramis sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Well, yes, but I thought you might be in a better mood today, so-" He stopped in the middle of his sentence. "Christelle!" She smiled in return. Porthos had always been the funniest of her Musketeer friends. Because of her loyalty to Aramis, she was also one of very few women he had never attempted to seduce.

"Hello, Porthos," she greeted him. "It's good to see you, and it's been so long."

"That it has, Christelle, that it has," he sighed. He then turned to the three whores. "I'm sorry I must do this to you again, my dears, but now is definitely not the right time. I will not be long, I promise." With that, he gently nudged them out into the hallway and shut the door behind them. He then turned to Aramis. "Well, you must be happy."

"That I am," Aramis smiled, pulling Christelle a little closer to him.

"I still don't understand how you could pass up an offer such as the one I presented to you yesterday," Porthos sighed. He pulled up a chair and sat down next to them.

"You simply do not understand that it is possible to be in love with only one single person for all of eternity, Porthos," said Aramis. Christelle was relieved that he felt that way. "I love Christelle," he continued, "I will always love her, and nothing will ever change that." The seriousness and calmness of his voice only made his statement that much more effective. "Do you understand love at all, Porthos?" he sounded a little irritated.

"I am insulted by your implication, Aramis," Porthos sounded hurt. "Of course I understand love."

"Then what is it?" Aramis demanded, taking hold of Christelle's hand.

"Love…what is love?" Porthos pondered. He scratched his head, deep in thought.

"That's just it, Porthos!" Aramis exclaimed. "You don't _understand_ love. You've never _been_ in love."

"You've got your girl back, I see," Porthos sighed. "Now you've got to rub it in."

"Porthos, he doesn't mean it," Christelle finally got a chance to speak. "He's just happy. That's all."

"I guess you do have a point," Aramis admitted with a smile.

Christelle reached over to Porthos and patted his shoulder. "You live your life the way _you_ want to live it. Love how _you _want to love. Don't let silly old Aramis spoil it for you."

Aramis sighed. "Christelle, do you have to ruin _all_ the fun?"

"Yes, that's why you love me, isn't it?" Christelle teased him.

"I've seen enough," Porthos sighed, yet again. "I'll leave you two lovebirds alone now." He leaned down and gave Christelle a friendly hug before leaving the room to rejoin his ladies. Christelle then stood up.

"So," she began, only to realize that Aramis wasn't listening. He was looking off to another side of the room, sighing from time to time. "Aramis, is something wrong?" She sat down beside him again.

"There's just a lot on my mind and a lot going on right now," he replied, taking her hand. "Two nights from now, I will send word to Athos and D'Artagnan and then you and Porthos and I will all meet with them. We can discuss _everything _then." When he noticed Christelle's troubled face, he took both of her hands. "Everything will be fine, my dear. We're together now, and that's what's important."

The night that Aramis had promised came quickly. Under cover of darkness, he rounded up Christelle and Porthos and they all rode down to an old and historic church to meet with Athos and D'Artagnan.

"This way!" Aramis whispered, taking Christelle's hand once they all dismounted. Christelle and Porthos followed him into the dark, empty church. The trio traveled through long and winding hallways until they finally stopped at a tapestry. Aramis pulled it to the side to reveal a hidden doorway. "Sometimes things are more than they appear," he explained before leading them inside.

"Aramis, is this the way to hell?" Porthos worried as they ventured down a long, dimly lit, dusty stone staircase.

"Hell may be our destination," answered Aramis. "Not this trip." Every few steps, Porthos made some exclamation of fright or nervousness. Aramis, however, remained calm. Christelle decided that, as long as he was, she should be, too.

After only a few more seconds, they reached a small door. Aramis ushered them all inside. Once they were safely shut into the little room, Christelle sighed with relief. It was then that she realized where they were. Aside from the little table with a single lit candle and a crucifix mounted on the wall, she looked around and saw at least half a dozen skeletons.

"A tomb," she whispered frightfully.

"We're in a tomb," said Porthos. At that moment, another door opened and D'Artagnan was led inside by a man in a cloak. One more door opened and Athos was led in by a similar man. All five exchanged glances at one another.

"The secrecy…is regrettable but necessary," Aramis announced. "Please, sit." He gestured at the table. Everybody took a seat. Athos and D'Artagnan were glaring at each other. "When we were young men, and we saw injustice…we fought it," Aramis began.

"Now we know that some problems cannot be solved with a sword," D'Artagnan chimed in.

"And some can't be settled without one," Athos added angrily.

"Here…is the problem at hand," said Aramis calmly. "The Jesuits oppose Louis's wars and the starvation that results. So…Louis has ordered me to discover the true identity of the general of the Jesuit Order…and to kill him." The others either scoffed or sighed.

"You should let the secret general worry about that," said Porthos, possibly missing the point.

"The problem is that…I am he." Aramis took a pause. "I am the general of the Order of Jesuits." Everyone appeared to be in disbelief. Christelle sighed worriedly. Aramis reached under the table and held her hand tightly, as if to offer comfort.

"What do you propose to do?" Athos offered. He looked confident.

"Replace the king," Aramis answered. He squeezed Christelle's hand even tighter.

"I cannot listen to this," D'Artagnan finally spoke.

"It can't be done!" exclaimed Porthos.

"It can!" Aramis declared, slightly excited. "I know the way!"

"I am with you," said Athos.

"So am I," said Porthos.

"No!" D'Artagnan resisted.

"I need you," Aramis persuaded. "All for one, one for all…"

"You cannot ask me to betray my king! I have sworn an oath," D'Artagnan held firm.

"When a king is dishonorable, you are removed from your oath of honor," Athos joined in.

"An oath is an oath precisely because it cannot _be_ removed!" D'Artagnan raised his voice.

Athos stood up. "Why do you follow him, D'Artagnan? Why?" he shouted. "What we fought for is greater than king or rank or reward. What do you fight for now?"

"I fight for the belief that every man can be better!" D'Artagnan declared proudly. "Even Louis!"

Athos addressed Aramis, "Whatever the plan, I am with you." Then D'Artagnan again, "The next time we meet, one of us will die!" He then stormed out.

"Athos, wait!" Porthos followed him.

Aramis stood up from the table, with Christelle left to contemplate what had just happened. "D'Artagnan!" Aramis called out to stop him from leaving, too. When he got his full attention, he continued, "Even were I not a priest, I could see that your heart carries a secret weight…and that it is hurting you to bear it alone."

"I cannot betray…my king," D'Artagnan said firmly. "I will defend him with my life."

"Then God go with you," Aramis made the sign of the cross. "For none of us will." It was then that D'Artagnan finally left. Aramis turned his attention back to Christelle, who was breathing deeply, trying to calm herself down. "Oh, my dear," he whispered, sitting down beside her and pulling her into his arms. "I never should have gotten you into this."

"If I cannot help you and stand by your side, then what else am I good for?" she sighed. "How else can I best show that I love you?"

"I've waited two years to hear you say that," Aramis smiled and kissed her forehead. "No matter, what happens, you must remember…that I love you."


	3. Unmasking the Prisoner

_**The Tale of Aramis and Christelle**_

By: Raven in Red

Athos had a wife at one point, D'Artagnan has Anne, and Porthos has all his favorite women, but what about Aramis? Why doesn't he have someone to love? Meet Christelle, who follows the Four Musketeers through the events of The Man in the Iron Mask.

**Chapter Three**

As soon as Aramis and Christelle left the church, they got into a carriage and rode out of Paris. Aramis had ordered the driver to take him to a specific country house where, as he put it, "Christelle can rest and I can get some work done." However, when they got there and Christelle was safely in bed and bestowed with a kiss from Aramis, she found that she couldn't sleep. All throughout the night, she heard hushed voices, including that of Aramis, as well as the constant sound of a hammer striking metal. It was an eerie sound and one that frightened her deeply.

The next morning, Christelle was sitting by her window, staring out at the countryside, when there was a knock at her door. "Come in," she called out. The door opened and Aramis entered the room. "Ah, good morning, darling," she crossed the room and hugged him.

"Come downstairs, love," Aramis smiled. "We need to get back to Paris immediately."

"Why?" she inquired with a heavy yawn.

"We're meeting with Athos and Porthos again to finalize our plan," answered Aramis. Then, he sighed. "I'm sorry we must go when you are obviously so tired, but now is really the only time."

"No, it's quite alright, darling," Christelle yawned again.

Laughing, Aramis said, "Come, let's go."

Since she was still fully dressed from the previous night, Christelle followed him downstairs where he led her outside and into the carriage. It was a fairly long ride back to Paris. Since Christelle wasn't tormented by hushed voices or clinking metal, she finally fell asleep in Aramis's arms.

The carriage eventually came to a stop at the same church where they had all met initially to establish their course of action. This time, they would add the finishing touches and make preparations.

"Now that we are all here, let's begin," said Aramis once he had led Christelle down to the same small tomb they had met in before, only this time D'Artagnan wasn't present. Athos and Porthos were already seated at the table. "Tonight, we are going to the Bastille," Aramis continued. Christelle wanted to ask why, but she figured that Aramis would explain it soon enough. "The prisoner we are looking for is the required replacement for the king."

"I assume, then, that we will be disguised, if we are to break a prisoner out of the Bastille," Christelle spoke up. "If that is even possible."

"Do not underestimate Aramis's intelligence," Athos laughed a little. "Any plan of his is almost guaranteed to work." Christelle didn't have much of a choice but to trust him.

"By the way, Aramis, what were you doing last night to make so much noise?" she suddenly remembered.

Aramis said nothing in response. Instead, he reached into a trunk, pulled out something made of metal, and dropped it onto the table. It was a full-head mask made of solid iron. Christelle reached out and found it to be cold to the touch. "What is it for?" she asked, somewhat scared.

"This mask was an invention of King Louis," explained Aramis. "He used it to keep the identity of this prisoner a secret from the world."

Later that night, as the group was getting ready to leave for the Bastille, Christelle pulled Aramis aside. "Make sure you come back safe to me, Aramis. Do what you need to do, and bring the prisoner back safe as well."

"My dear, are you not coming along?" Aramis sounded a little sad. He took her hands gently.

"Just the thought of going anywhere _near_ such a place does nothing but fill my heart with fear," Christelle admitted. "I wish I could go with you, but I can't."

"Alright," Aramis pulled her into a hug, "Although I will be considerably lonely without you." Once he let go and gave her a quick kiss, he finished with, "Make sure you stay safe too, my dear. We will meet you back here tomorrow morning." He, Porthos, and Athos then put on their hats, grabbed their respective disguises, and left the room. From the church courtyard, Christelle blew Aramis a kiss and prayed that he would come back safe and successful. She watched the carriage roll away until it disappeared into the sunset.

The next morning, Aramis and the others had not returned as they had promised. Christelle walked aimlessly through the church, worrying that maybe they had been captured and killed along the way. To pass the time, she settled down in one of the church's many rooms and fell asleep. However, she was soon awoken by the sounds of carriage wheels and galloping hooves. "It's Aramis!" she gasped happily. She rushed into the courtyard, where she knew the carriage would come to a stop. "Aramis!" she laughed happily when he finally jumped down out of it. He rushed straight across the courtyard, picked her up, and began spinning her around.

"We did it, my dear, we did it!" he said with and incredible amount of pride. "Now, come quickly! We must get back to the country house!" With that, he pulled her into the carriage and ordered the driver to get them there as quickly as possible. He then sat Christelle down across from a hooded man whom she presumed to be the prisoner. She remained silent for the entire journey, along with everyone else, comforted only by the grip Aramis had on her hand.

When they finally reached the courtyard of the same country house Christelle and Aramis had just been in the previous morning, two men came to open the carriage. Athos pointed his sword at them, but Aramis stopped him.

"Jesuits," he said. "They're mine." As soon as Athos sheathed his sword, Aramis got out of the carriage and ushered everyone else out as well. They all rushed into the house. Aramis sat the prisoner down by a fire pit, with his iron-masked head over an anvil. He picked up a hammer and took hold of the mask. "Are you ready?" he asked.

"Yes," the prisoner struggled to speak. Aramis raised the hammer.

"Wait!" Christelle grabbed his hand to stop him. She, Athos, and Porthos all took hold of the prisoner's shoulders, both to offer comfort and to prevent him from squirming. Once Christelle nodded her approval, Aramis raised the hammer and make a sharp strike against the hinging of the mask. The prisoner cried out in pain. Christelle took his hand and held it gently, wanting only to relieve him of his pain and suffering, even if in just a small way. After one more strike, Aramis put down the hammer. He and Porthos worked together to unhinge the framework of the mask. Once that was put to the side, Athos carefully removed the face plate.

Christelle gasped. Underneath the mask was a young man whose hair and beard were so overgrown that they coiled around his neck and almost completely covered his face. His eyes showed deep set fear, sadness, and pain that had been embedded in him for a very long time.

Aramis walked off to the side, apparently unable to look at the man. Christelle came up by his side. "What's wrong, darling?" she whispered. He said nothing. Instead, he simply kissed her forehead and wrapped his arm around her waist. With a gentle hand, Christelle angled his face so that he could finally look at the young man. Tears gathered in her eyes.

Slowly and carefully, the man sat up. A sense of amazement filled his eyes, like that of a young child seeing a beautiful new place for the first time. Athos, Porthos, Aramis, and Christelle all stood to the side, gazing at him with a mix of amazement and sadness. Aramis still broke the gaze from time to time, sometimes with a sense of guilt in his eyes.

The man slowly reached up and carefully touched his own face. He then stood up and took a few steps toward a water barrel. Almost cautiously, he peered down inside to see his reflection for the first time since the mask had been put on. Suddenly, the feeling must have overwhelmed him, because he soon fainted and fell back onto the hard floor.


	4. Revealing the Truth

_**The Tale of Aramis and Christelle**_

By: Raven in Red

Athos had a wife at one point, D'Artagnan has Anne, and Porthos has all his favorite women, but what about Aramis? Why doesn't he have someone to love? Meet Christelle, who follows the Four Musketeers through the events of The Man in the Iron Mask.

**Chapter Four**

While Athos was getting the prisoner cleaned up and fed, Aramis took Christelle's hand and led her outside. "Listen, Christelle," he said, leading her into a stroll. "I apologize that we have not had proper time together since our reunion."

Christelle laughed a little. "Well, you've had a lot to do in the last few days. Breaking a prisoner out of the Bastille is a pretty time-consuming job."

"Still," Aramis smiled, "I should have tried to spend more time with you." He leaned over and kissed her. Their lips lingered gently for a few seconds before separating. Christelle continued by pulling him into her arms.

"I love you, Aramis," she whispered.

"And I love you, Christelle," Aramis whispered in return. He then stepped back and took her hand. For a while, the couple walked through the fields around the house. Aramis told Christelle about his faith and how he knew throughout their two-year separation that they would be reunited one day. Christelle mostly listened and stayed silent. After a little while, Aramis stopped and turned to face her. "Is something wrong, my dear?" he asked with concern.

"I just hope everything all works out in the end," Christelle sighed. She was worried about this plan that Aramis and the others were so thoroughly involved in. What they were doing was horribly illegal, and could get them all executed if they were found out. "I'm scared, Aramis."

"Come here," he smiled and pulled her into a gentle hug. "Do you feel safe with me?" he asked while rubbing her back.

"Yes, of course," Christelle nodded against his shoulder.

"Then we will never be separated again," Aramis reassured her.

"I would certainly appreciate that," Christelle laughed a little. The two began walking again once she pulled herself away. Eventually, they came upon Porthos, who was sitting on a stone wall and sulking.

"And why are you so glum?" Aramis asked, soundly ever-so-slightly smug. Christelle wandered off a little, not wanting to get in the middle of a possible argument.

"I expected action," Porthos sighed, referring to the freeing of the prisoner, "There was no killing. There was no fighting. I was useless."

"Porthos," Aramis sighed and sat down next to him. "I grow tired of this attitude. You are surrounded by beauty, by intrigue, by danger. What more could a man want? Look around you!" He gestured at the fields and forestry. The robins are singing. The pigeons are cooing. Can't you listen to their song?" His frustration was obvious. Porthos remained silent and simply gave him a sorrowful glance. Heaving a gusty sigh, Aramis stormed off, with Christelle close behind him.

A little later, Porthos was moping at the kitchen table.

"There's plenty of food in the country," said Aramis, pulling a basket of vegetables down from a shelf and sitting down at the table as well. "Of course, Louis sends it all to the army." He began slicing the skin off a carrot.

"I have no appetite," declared Porthos. "I am wasting away. Even women do not interest me anymore. Now say goodbye to Porthos, for he is gone." He then got up from the table and sadly walked out of the room. Although he seemed to be acting a little overdramatic, Christelle couldn't help but worry.

"Is he going to be alright?" she asked. She was standing behind Aramis and absentmindedly stroking his hair, noticing how soft it felt between her fingers.

"Don't worry, my dear," Aramis smiled and turned around to face her. "He's getting old, just like the rest of us, and he wants to make the most of his life while he still can, though sometimes he really does miss the days when he was younger and more energetic." He then took her hand and kissed it. "Porthos will be just fine."

A door opened and Athos came in. "Who is he?" he asked.

"You seek facts when you should be seeking the truth," Aramis retorted.

"You're not my priest, Aramis," Athos declared, "You would not be even if I had one."

"That's bitter," Aramis sighed. "The loss of Raoul, and of D'Artagnan, who you held as a brother, and now you hate."

"What gives you the right to judge me, to play God with the lives of others," Athos spat out. "Is it because you're so much holier than everyone else?"

"Well, yes, there is that, but also because I'm more intelligent than everybody else," Aramis replied cleverly. All of a sudden, a terrible groan came from outside. Aramis and Athos jumped up and ran out to see what had happened. Christelle got to the threshold to see Porthos apparently in pain with Aramis and Athos at his side, supporting him.

"Aramis!" a voice called from upstairs. "He is ready!" Athos, Porthos, Aramis, and Christelle all went back inside and into the kitchen, where they sat at the main table. They all sat in uncomfortable silence, deep in thought. Finally, the door opened and a young man came into the room. It was the same young man who had just hours ago been a prisoner of the Bastille, but now he could hardly be recognized. His hair had been trimmed and his facial hair had all been shaved off. His skin was now soft and delicate like that of a baby.

The young man sat down at the table and looked around uneasily.

"The greatest mystery of life…is who we truly are," said Aramis wisely.

"Yes," the young man nodded.

"Now I'm going to tell you that secret that has been kept from you for the whole of your life," Aramis continued, folding his hands on the table. "It began the night King Louis was born."

"I remember that night," Porthos recalled. Christelle could as well, although she was only a child at the time. "D'Artagnan, Athos, and I were dining. D'Artagnan was dead drunk…the only time I've ever seen him like that."

"But I was on duty," Aramis continued. "I was summoned to a rear door of the palace, where the Queen's own priest placed a baby in my arms."

"Do you understand this, Athos?" Porthos cried out. "He confuses me!"

"Porthos, let him speak!" Christelle spat out angrily. Aramis patted her hand before continuing yet again,

"The Queen had given birth to twins that night," he said. "And the child I carried was the younger of the two. Suddenly, your king discovered he had two heirs!" He got up and began walking around the room. "He'd seen enough kingdoms torn apart by feuding brothers, so he decided for the sake of peace to make one of them disappear…you, Philippe." After a pause, he went on. "He ordered your true identity kept from you. On his deathbed, he revealed your existence to Louis and your mother. She had been told by her own priest that you had died at birth. She blamed herself for ever believing it, and she wished to restore your birthright…but now Louis was king. He was afraid to kill you, for his whole claim of power rested on the sanctity of royal blood. So instead, he devised a way to keep you forever hidden. For my country, for my king, I bought peace with your life…and with my soul." He was now standing by the wall, looking sad. "One day…I will ask for your forgiveness." He sat back down at the table and allowed Christelle to take his hand. "But not until I have restored you to what is yours."

"Restored?" Philippe sounded confused.

"We will replace Louis with Philippe," Aramis concluded.

"_That_ is your plan?" Athos was surprised. "Exchanging one for the other? It's ludicrous!"

"I can assure you, it's brilliant!" Aramis said confidently. "What did you imagine we were up to?"

"Revolution! Open war!" Athos shouted.

"Blood in the streets," sighed Aramis.

"At least it's a change," Porthos attempted to cut in.

"Physical resemblance is but a beginning," Athos pointed out. "Louis has an arrogance, a manner-"

"Which can be adopted!" Aramis fought back.

"And people close to him!"

"Do you imagine I've not considered that, that's I've not considered _everything_?" Aramis was very obviously frustrated.

"Have you considered that it is not only our lives that you risk, it is Philippe's as well?" Athos pointed out in a much calmer voice.

"Yes, and like us, he has a choice," Aramis concluded. Philippe looked scared. "What about it, Philippe?" he prodded. "All those years in prison…were they for nothing…or have they given you reserves of strength unlike ordinary men? You have the chance to be a king, if you have the heart to take that chance. Do you have that heart, Philippe?" When Philippe didn't answer, he took on a more firm tone. "Do you?"

"I…" Philippe attempted to speak. His gaze darted around; he was nervous and scared.

"Do you?" Aramis tried again. Philippe didn't answer. He pulled himself up from the table and leaned up against the door. Athos followed him. Eventually, he led Philippe into another room so he could rest. Porthos wandered off as well.

"Aramis, you should not have put so much pressure on him!" Christelle stood up as soon as she and Aramis were alone. All she got in return was an angry sigh. She continued, "He only just now found out the reason for his suffering, and all of a sudden he is being asked to risk his life at a complete stranger's discretion!" Aramis still didn't reply. He got up and attempted to leave, but Christelle stopped him. "Wait," she said. "I'm sorry."

"So am I, my dear," he sighed again, taking her hands gently. "I want a better life for all of us, including you, and sometimes a thing like that can only be acquired through danger." Defeated, he sat back down. From behind him, Christelle hugged him around his shoulders.

"I love you, Aramis," she said, leaning down to kiss his cheek. "But sometimes I worry that your intelligence and these plans of yours might get you into trouble one day."

"And why would you worry about a thing like that?" Aramis pulled her down into the chair next to him. "I'm still alive, right?"

"Yes," Christelle admitted, "but if you _do_ end up getting into trouble and getting yourself killed, then I'd be without you for the rest of my life, and I would be heartbroken."

"Then maybe I should be more careful, now that I have something to live for," Aramis smiled. He then leaned over and kissed her. "I love you."


	5. Aramis the Genius

_**The Tale of Aramis and Christelle**_

By: Raven in Red

Athos had a wife at one point, D'Artagnan has Anne, and Porthos has all his favorite women, but what about Aramis? Why doesn't he have someone to love? Meet Christelle, who follows the Four Musketeers through the events of The Man in the Iron Mask.

**Chapter Five**

"More wine!" Aramis called out. "More wine!"

That night, Aramis and Christelle were up late, sitting in the kitchen, with Christelle dozing off at the table. Soon, the door opened, and Athos came in.

"How is he?" Aramis inquired of Philippe.

"Exhausted," sighed Athos. "He's had a long day."

Aramis sat down at a table by the window, busying himself with some books. "More wine!" he yelled a third time.

"Aramis, you must reconsider," said Athos. "Philippe is like a child. He cannot possibly be ready."

"You can do it!" Aramis declared, patting him on the shoulder.

"No, I can't," Athos stated firmly.

"No, yes you can!" Aramis said confidently.

"In one year, maybe two," Athos sighed.

"Three weeks," Aramis concluded.

"Three weeks?" said Athos after a pause.

"The king is having a ball," Aramis turned to face him. "a masquerade ball…a swerr of people, their faces covered. It is our _perfect_ opportunity, and maybe the only one. Philippe could be discovered at any time, and what then?" He then shouted with frustration, "More wine! Where is everybody?" He then got up and went over to Christelle. "I think you might want to go to bed now, my dear." He attempted to pull her out of the chair, but she resisted.

"I'm fine, Aramis!" she snapped. He stepped back, slightly worried by her temper.

Athos sighed. "Three weeks to learn all that he must know?"

"For sixteen years, he was educated as a gentleman," Aramis took a seat back at the window table.

"Yes, and for six more, he lived in that mask, not knowing why. Now he knows that those who should have loved him tore him from his birthright and threw him into loneliness and pain!"

"You grow fond of him," said Aramis calmly, "That's good."

"Do not play God with me, Aramis!" Athos spat out. "Nothing can replace Raoul!"

Christelle finally decided to get up and walk over to the fireplace.

"What is Porthos doing?" Athos suddenly asked.

Christelle was about to go to the window to look, until she heard Aramis reply, "Walking into the barn naked, or so it would seem."

"But what is he doing?" Athos wondered.

"About to hang himself, I should think. He's been threatening to do it for months," Aramis replied with no hint of emotion.

"Hang himself?" Christelle finally spoke. She knew he had been depressed, but she had never known the extent it had gotten to.

"If Porthos is determined to end his life," Aramis addressed Athos, "then he's bound to find the opportunity, isn't he?" The two of them then went outside. Christelle stopped at the threshold, exhausted and ready to fall asleep right then and there. All of a sudden, there was a snapping sound and a heavy crash.

"What was that?" Athos wondered.

"It's alright," said Aramis, "I sawed the beam." When the barn collapsed, he added, "Well, I'm a genius, not an engineer!" He and Athos ran over to the rubble to find Porthos. Christelle sighed and leaned against the wall, trying to ignore the shouting that ensued between Porthos and Aramis. Eventually, they all came back into the house.

"Oh, is my sweetheart tired?" Aramis kissed Christelle on the cheek and then lifted her up off of her tired feet. "Come on, let's get you to bed." He carried her upstairs and down the hall to her little bedroom. Once he had set her down underneath the covers, he knelt down beside her.

"Promise me you'll get some sleep now?" he asked with a smile.

"I promise," Christelle nodded and accepted a small kiss from him. She was sad when he walked quietly from the room.

Several hours later, Christelle found that she couldn't sleep, despite her exhaustion. Still in her dress from the previous day, she got out of bed and ventured quietly down the hallway to Aramis's room. She found him sound asleep, and she couldn't help but notice how handsome he looked in that state. Tiptoeing quietly, Christelle entered the room and knelt down at his bedside. She reached out and carefully touched his face.

With a gasp, he was startled out of his deep sleep. He sighed with relief when he realized it was just her. "Christelle, is something wrong?" he asked worriedly, his voice slurred with exhaustion.

"I can't sleep," she said. Aramis yawned and sat up.

"Come here," he sighed, loosely wrapping her up in his arms. "Why can't you sleep, my dear?"

"I don't know," Christelle sighed as well. "I'm so tired, but I just can't seem to sleep."

"Is something on your mind?" Aramis gently cupped her chin in his hand. "If there is, you can tell me." She offered no response. "Do you want to stay here with me?" She looked over at him and smiled.

"I would appreciate that," she sighed happily. Taking her gently in his arms, Aramis lay back into bed and held her close to him. She rested her head on his chest, heard his gentle heartbeat, and felt the kiss he placed on her forehead. She was quickly lulled to sleep.


	6. Torn Apart

_**The Tale of Aramis and Christelle**_

By: Raven in Red

Athos had a wife at one point, D'Artagnan has Anne, and Porthos has all his favorite women, but what about Aramis? Why doesn't he have someone to love? Meet Christelle, who follows the Four Musketeers through the events of The Man in the Iron Mask.

**Chapter Six**

Christelle woke up before Aramis that morning. She sat alone by the window, contemplating their relationship.

When she and Aramis had first been together, their relationship was very passionate and emotional. Although they never slept together, their feelings for each other were incredibly strong. The threat of Christelle's identity being discovered provoked them to seize every possible moment to be together, even if it meant just being on duty at the same time. When they were forced to part, Aramis was in tears. The two could not contact each other in manner for the next two years. While Christelle still loved Aramis as much as she always had, she wondered if he returned her feelings.

As she went downstairs to take a morning walk, she heard hushed voices coming from the kitchen. She crept to the closed door and pressed her ear to it.

"Sometimes I wonder whether or not he still loves her as much as she loves him." Christelle recognized Athos's voice.

"What do you mean?" Porthos inquired.

"When they were first together, it was true love. I thought they would be married," Athos sighed. "Then they were separated. Aramis changed. Now his life is all about reason and thinking and praying. Does he even have room in his heart to love her anymore?"

"But he tells her that he loves her, and he shows it, too," said Porthos.

"That is true, but I wonder if that is what his heart is truly feeling," Athos concluded.

Christelle had heard enough. She opened the door and took a few steps into the kitchen. Tears were gathering in her eyes.

"Christelle," Athos looked surprised. "Did you hear…?"

"I heard enough," Christelle nodded. She refused to begin openly crying. "Do you think it's really possible that he does not love me anymore?" She took deep breaths to help control herself. "But it…makes no sense." Neither Athos nor Porthos seemed to be able to find the right words. Finally, Athos managed to speak,

"Yes," he nodded, "It is possible."

It was when Christelle finally broke loose and began sobbing that Aramis entered the room. All three sent angry glares toward him. "What's happened?" he asked with worry. Christelle took a bold step forward, slapped him across the face, and stormed outside, leaving Aramis to stand in shock.

Christelle walked far away from the house until she came to a small creek which ran through one of the fields. She splashed water onto her face until her hair was soaked through and her tears were disguised. "Dear God!" she raised her hands to the sky. "If you love me still, give me an answer! The man I love, the man I have cried for and bled for and dreamed for, does he return my feelings? Does he still wish to spend his life with me? Does he…still love me?" After a pause, she calmed down a little. "I know in my heart that I will always love him, no matter what he thinks of me. If he loves me in return, I will thank thee, Lord, for my happiness. If he does not, then I pray that you will grant me the strength to continue on with my life." With shaking hands, she made the sign of the cross.

Within minutes of her prayer's conclusion, Athos and Porthos were walking towards the creek. "What did he say?" she asked calmly, drying her tears and standing up.

"He's confused," replied Athos. "He'll need some time to recover."

"Thank you for your support," Christelle smiled. Even if she did have to go on without Aramis, she would still have the loyalty of her friends to fall back on.

Later that morning, Athos, Porthos, Aramis, and Christelle sat by a creek, where Philippe was deep in thought.

"I've been in prison for six years," he said. "You have freed me…but now you're asking me to enter another prison."

"The palace is hardly a prison," said Porthos.

"See those farm maids working there?" Philippe gestured across the creek. "See the one holding the lamb? I would tend lambs with her for the rest of my life."

"We are offering you a chance…to be king," said Aramis. He was being careful not to look at Christelle.

"No," said Philippe, "you're offering me a chance to _pretend_ to be king…a king that you hate."

"Not everyone hates him," Athos sighed.

"Don't you?" Philippe sounded a little irritated. He stood up. "Why should I become him? Until you give me a reason, I won't do it. I cannot."

"We're all God's instruments," said Aramis, "whether we like it or not. All we can do is to keep faith, even though I admit I sometimes find that hard to do."

"We all fail at faith, Aramis!" Porthos stepped in. "That's why we must eat, drink, and make love to life." He turned to Philippe. "As king, if you like plough maids, you can have a thousand of them!"

"Porthos!" Aramis interrupted him. "You miss the point."

"What point?"

"Philippe is right," Athos sighed. "We haven't given him a reason to do what we ask of him."

"I understand your reason, Athos," said Philippe.

"You understand my reason?"

"Porthos told me…about your son," Philippe said sadly.

"And you think that's why I'm here?" When he got no response, Athos continued, "Yes, Raoul is my reason, but in the way you think. One time, we all believed in spending our lives in the service of something greater than ourselves. Aramis had his faith, Porthos his lust for life, D'Artagnan his devotion, and I had Raoul. But we all had a common dream…that one day we would finally be able to serve a king worthy of the throne. It is what we dreamt, what we bled for, and what we have spent a lifetime waiting to see. I taught Raoul to believe in that dream, and now my son is dead. So I am here to find out if his life was in vain…and the only one that can answer that question…is you."

Philippe didn't speak. Instead, with a slight smile, he picked up a sword beside the stump he had been sitting on and slowly walked off. Athos was getting up to follow him.

"Athos," said Aramis, "If we fail in this attempt, and we probably will, I'll be honored to die beside you." He turned to Porthos, "And you!" Athos and Porthos then got up to follow Philippe. Now alone with Aramis, Christelle no longer felt comfortable. She got up and walked off as well. "Christelle, wait!" Aramis ran up and pulled on her arm to stop her. She turned to face him. "Christelle, I need to tell you that I am truly sorry for any pain I might have caused you." He took her face in his hands. "But I promise that I really do love you, and that has not changed between the time we parted and where we stand now."

"Thank you," Christelle whispered. However, she could not bring herself to say anything else. She gently pulled herself from his grasp and walked away. She needed time as well to be sure of her feelings.


	7. A Failed Attempt

_**The Tale of Aramis and Christelle**_

By: Raven in Red

Athos had a wife at one point, D'Artagnan has Anne, and Porthos has all his favorite women, but what about Aramis? Why doesn't he have someone to love? Meet Christelle, who follows the Four Musketeers through the events of The Man in the Iron Mask.

**Chapter Seven**

Over the next several days, the group proceeded with teaching Philippe how to act like royalty. Each one had a separate job. Aramis instructed him in horsemanship and etiquette, Athos taught him swordfighting, Porthos explained life's many joys to him, and Christelle teamed up with Athos and taught him how to dance like a gentleman. Christelle mainly took the responsibility because she was avoiding Aramis. She didn't want to risk letting everything fall apart unless she was absolutely sure of her feelings. She thought she was, but she couldn't be completely certain.

One day, however, Aramis had to leave all of a sudden. "Come on, come on, we have no time!" she heard him shout from outside. She ran out to see what was going on.

"Here, my bag!" Aramis shouted. A large leather bag was tossed out to him.

"Where are you going?" Christelle inquired, slightly worried.

"Paris!" replied Aramis. "There's still much to be done. I'll be gone for a few days." He then addressed Athos. "Make sure everything is ready when I get back."

"Wait, you want us to do the impossible and you want us to do it alone?" Christelle was measurable angry with him. It was his idea that had made them all work like crazy for days, and now he was leaving it all to them?

"I offer you the perfect solution," Aramis countered as he strapped his back to the back of the carriage. "A revolution without bloodshed, without loss of like, even without treason, for he too is the son of a king!"

"But we can't get him ready!" Athos complained. "We'll never have time!"

"The urgency is not my choice," said Aramis sadly, "Instead of distributing the food as he promised, Louis has ordered that all rioters be shot!" Christelle was a little surprised when he leaned over and kissed her. He and Porthos then climbed into the carriage. "And can you imagine what will happen when the starving people of Paris hear about his new ball? This is _not_ for me, Athos! This is for everything we once were and might be again!" Christelle couldn't help but blow him a kiss with worry heavy in her heart. With that, the carriage sped off, carrying Aramis and Porthos away into uncertainty.

"Do you really think we'll be able to get him ready?" Christelle wondered.

"No, I do not," Athos said, irritated. "He leads us all into this dangerous and convoluted plan only to leave the two of us alone to finish it without his help!"

"Athos, calm down," whispered Christelle, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "All we can do now is do our best with Philippe and pray that everything works out." When all she got in return was a heavy sigh, she linked arms with him. "Come on, inside. We have a long few days ahead of us."

Christelle led Athos into the kitchen, where she sat him down at the table and poured him a glass of wine. Philippe had not yet woken up. "Is Aramis alright?" she inquired.

"You haven't spoken with him?" Athos seemed surprised.

"No, I haven't," sighed Christelle, "Not for several days. I don't want to ruin things between us." She then sat down across from Athos. "I really do love him, but I need to make sure that it is really worth acting on."

"I understand," Athos reached over and patted her hand. "Even before he met you, Aramis has been utterly unpredictable."

"I can tell," Christelle managed to smile a little.

The next afternoon, they got an unexpected surprise. Christelle and Athos were out in the courtyard with a model of the palace, showing Philippe what all the various rooms were and how to get to them. All of a sudden, Christelle heard the sound of an approaching carriage. With a squint of her eyes, she could see Aramis sitting next to the driver.

"Change the horses!" he shouted as the carriage slowed to a stop. "Clear everything out now!"

"What's going on?" Christelle ran to him. Aramis took her by the shoulders, leaned forward, and kissed her urgently.

"We need to leave now!" he commanded.

"Why now? Philippe's not ready!" Christelle was utterly shocked.

"The ball has been brought forth to _tonight_!" Aramis pleaded with her. "He _must_ be ready!"

"I guess we'll just have to manage with what we have!" Christelle sighed. Within minutes she, Athos, Aramis, and Philippe (without Porthos, since he had not returned) were in the carriage, speeding off down the road. A little later, they stopped and switched to a different carriage, due to the exhaustion of their horses. They were in an incredible rush to get back to Paris in time for the king's ball. Along the way, they gave him a few last pieces of advice.

"Remember, Philippe," said Christelle, "nobility is born in the heart."

"Make love as if you don't care, and fart whenever you wish!" said Porthos.

"Hold your goblet with two fingers. Remember, all you have to do is _get through tonight_. Smile and nod a lot, and if you get stuck, just wave and announce 'continue'," said Athos.

"And in the morning," concluded Aramis, "you order that Athos, Porthos, and Aramis be brought to the palace as your advisors and all will be well."

Once more, the group was at the old church, where they were joined by Porthos. He supplied them with extravagant ball gowns and gold masks so that they wouldn't be discovered. Aramis has also had two replicas of the iron mask made for himself and Porthos. In hushed tones, they made one last confirmation on the plan and set off in the carriage.

Within mere minutes, they arrived at the palace and mingled their way into the main ballroom. Aramis and Porthos split off to 'dance', while Christelle and Athos kept Philippe company off to the side. Once King Louis and his partner had entered the dance floor, Aramis and Porthos began their plan. As they danced, every time they locked gazes with Louis, they would quickly reveal the iron masks hidden underneath their gold ones. Christelle couldn't help but smirk at the scared looks she saw on the king's face. Only moments later, Louis was rushing out of the ballroom. Everyone stopped dancing, looking worried. They began to murmur. Aramis then gathered the rest of the group off to one side of the room. "To the passageway!" he whispered. One by one, they all left the ballroom and ducked into a secret passageway hidden behind a large tapestry, like the one at the church.

After a few minutes of uneasy travel and constant fear of being discovered, they arrived at the king's bedchamber. They luckily found him alone and crept slowly towards him. When he gasped in surprise, Aramis declared,

"It's Judgment Day!" With a hard punch, Louis was unconscious. When he woke up again, he had been put into Philippe's shabbier clothes and Philippe was wearing his royal robes. Everyone else was in their normal clothes as well, which they had been wearing under the ball gowns.

"Don't look so shocked…Philippe," Athos said to him as he adjusted the real Philippe's robes.

"Philippe…why do you call me Philippe?" Louis sounded both scared and confused.

Porthos replied with, "We have a prison for you!" He shoved a gag into Louis's mouth and wrapped a burlap bag over his head.

Quietly, Aramis and Christelle crept to the door and looked outside. When they closed it again, Aramis said to Philippe, "D'Artagnan guards the hallway! You must go back the way we came!"

"Time to go, your Majesty," Athos said proudly. Christelle gave Philippe a quick hug and bid him good luck. Athos then led him back out into the passageway. Aramis and Porthos hid their disguises and pulled Louis off of the bed.

Using a long series of passageways, they reached the docks. Louis was tossed down into a boat. Christelle, bringing up the rear with Porthos, all of a sudden heard a shout. She turned to see one of the Royal Musketeers charging down a stairway at them. Thinking fast, she drew her sword and stabbed him. Then Porthos tossed him down into the water. "They've raised the alarm!" Christelle shouted as she and Porthos battled another Musketeer.

"They'll try to cut us off!" said Athos.

At Aramis's command, Porthos turned a large crank, creating a waterfall to speed up the current of the water. They all drew their swords just as several more Musketeers charged down the stairs. Within seconds, they were all engaged in various duels. It was obvious that the talent of the former Musketeers surpassed that of the Royal Musketeers.

After killing a Musketeer by way of a large torch, Porthos shouted, "I am Porthos! I defy the king!" The slaves manning the water pumps all cheered for him.

"Come on!" Aramis shouted. He and Athos jumped down into the boat. "Porthos! Christelle!"

Porthos made it down to boat. Christelle ran after him, but another wave of Musketeers arrived and she felt someone grab her arm, pulling her back.

"No!" she screamed. "Aramis!" She fought bitterly against her captor, but she soon received a debilitating punch in the stomach, causing her to surrender. Her eyes filled with tears.

"Christelle!" Aramis whispered, barely able to believe his eyes.

"Aramis, go!" Christelle screamed at him. She didn't care what happened to her, as long as he got away safely. With tears in his eyes, Aramis pushed away from the docks and began rowing downstream. The slaves began pumping as hard as they could.

"Stop them!" Christelle's captor shouted to the other Musketeers as he dragged her further down the docks. "Before they reach the river!"

"Oh, please God, let them get away safely!" Christelle prayed. She was silenced with a punch across the face. She couldn't believe what was happening.

The boat inched closer, closer to the gate. Just as they were about to get through, it dropped down, trapping them. A grappling hook was tossed in, and the boat was pulled up to the dock where the Musketeers stood threateningly. They were surrounded by drawn swords. Aramis and Christelle couldn't take their eyes off each other.

Soon, D'Artagnan came into view with a menacing glare on his face. 'Louis' was at his side, looking scared.

In an act of cleverness, Athos pulled Louis up from the floor of the boat and held a dagger to his neck. "Pull them back!" he commanded.

"This man," D'Artagnan gestured to Philippe, "is an imposter."

"This…" Athos removed the bag from Louis's head, "is the imposter." When D'Artagnan was silent, Athos repeated, "Pull them back!" D'Artagnan signaled for the Musketeers to step back. "Get in the boat, your Majesty!" Athos ordered.

With Aramis's help, Philippe stepped down into the boat. Louis gave him a hard glare. "Open the gate!" said Athos. "Open the gate!" he pulled the dagger even closer to Louis's neck.

"Open the gate," D'Artagnan finally agreed.

"I'm sorry I failed you," Philippe said sadly to Athos.

"We failed you," Athos corrected.

The gate was soon opened to free them. "Go," Christelle mouthed to Aramis, who was reaching out to help her. "Go!" she shouted louder.

"Stop!" D'Artagnan shouted, drawing his sword to Philippe's throat. "You take my king…and I shall take yours." Unfortunately, Athos moved the dagger from Louis's throat to strike at D'Artagnan, which allowed Louis to escape. Everyone began fighting again, except for Christelle, who was still restrained. Louis was screaming for Philippe to be captured. Eventually, exactly that happened. Just as the boat was slipping under the open gate, he was grabbed and dragged forcibly back onto the docks. Athos tried to get him back, but he failed. The boat floated away, its passengers having accomplished nothing. Christelle and Philippe were now prisoners.


	8. In the Bastille

_**The Tale of Aramis and Christelle**_

By: Raven in Red

Athos had a wife at one point, D'Artagnan has Anne, and Porthos has all his favorite women, but what about Aramis? Why doesn't he have someone to love? Meet Christelle, who follows the Four Musketeers through the events of The Man in the Iron Mask.

**Chapter Eight**

Philippe was taken to the palace while Christelle was locked away in the Bastille. She gave up trying to fight. It was hopeless. She was going to die in prison without ever seeing Aramis again. She wept bitter tears, wanting only to be able to apologize for the pain she had put him through.

All night, Christelle sat alone in her dark, windowless cell, her clothes getting dirtier by the second. Soon she felt just like all the other prisoners, dirty and without hope. Eventually, she had cried all her tears away and could only sit in silence. No one was there to comfort her or offer her a small shred of hope.

Then, the next morning, she received a miracle. Someone came to her cell, probably to bring her meal, but she saw that it was D'Artagnan. He unlocked the door and walked in. He looked sad while she looked angry.

"Why are you here?" she asked calmly.

"I am here to make right the wrongs I have committed against you," D'Artagnan sighed. He reached out and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"If you're here to free me, I refuse to go," Christelle said bitterly.

"Christelle…" he sighed, "I am only trying to help you and Philippe."

"You serve the king," Christelle sighed as well. "You have sworn an oath of honor which can never be broken. I get it."

"I will return for you before midnight," said D'Artagnan in a stubborn tone as he prepared to leave. "And I will get a message to the others."

"Wait!" Christelle stopped him. "Thank you." She reached out and gave her friend a hug. "And I'm sorry."

"I will be back," D'Artagnan promised. "And you will see Aramis again."

"Oh, thank you!" Christelle hugged him one more time before he finally left. Once the door was shut, she knelt down and clasped her hands together in prayer. "Thank you, God, for this great miracle!" All day, she thought of nothing but Aramis and how she would actually be able to see him again.

Finally, after many long and lonely hours, D'Artagnan finally returned. He supplied Christelle with the uniform worn by the Bastille guards so that she would not be discovered. He then stationed her by one of the main entrances, where she waited for the others.

Just before midnight, she heard a knock at the main doorway. She opened the hatch and peered out.

"Open up! We have a prisoner!"

Recognizing the voice as that of Porthos, she smiled and took the slip of paper he passed through the gap to her. She then opened the door and allowed them to pass. She noticed that they were all in their old black Musketeer uniforms. Athos was covered with a shabby blanket to make him look like a prisoner. For a brief moment, Christelle locked eyes with Aramis, who smiled gratefully but said nothing. He made the others aware of her presence.

"Bring him down to level three," Christelle ordered in a deep voice, trying to sound like a guard. "The captain will see to the document."

Once they were all safely down in one of the corridors, Athos cast away the blanket, revealing his own uniform. Aramis approached Christelle.

"Are you alright, my dear?" he asked gently. Christelle nodded and accepted a kiss from him.

"It worked!" Porthos sighed with relief.

"Well, it's a prison. Of course there's no trouble getting in. The problems will come when we want to get out," Athos said, just before they were all forced to hide. A line of guards jogged past, probably indicating the changing of the guard. A bell started to ring.

"It's midnight! We have ten minutes!" Aramis whispered, leading them down a hallway. They reached the lowermost level. "Down there," he gestured toward a door. They approached a guard sitting at a small table. With a single punch, he was unconscious on the floor. While Christelle kept watch, the others began rifling through his pockets, looking for the key to Philippe's cell.

"Is this what you're looking for?" someone asked. They all turned toward the cell to see a Royal Musketeer, dangling the key in question from his finger. He stepped back into the cell.

"The key," Athos drew his pistol.

"No," the Musketeer refused. "Remember this?" he gestured at Philippe. "You look so sad. There's nothing left of him anyway, just a sniveling, drooling-" He was cut off by Philippe, who knocked him out with a hard strike from the mask.

"I knew you would come for me!" he said gratefully.

"We feared the mask would destroy you," Athos sighed.

"I wear the mask," declared Philippe, "It does not wear me!" With that, the door was unlocked and Philippe was led out. The group then retraced their steps through the prison, eventually coming face-to-face with D'Artagnan, their swords drawn at him.


End file.
